


how could it be over (when it never was)

by jdphoenix



Series: at first sight [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe of an Alternate Universe, F/M, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:09:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24031804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdphoenix/pseuds/jdphoenix
Summary: While the others are hunting down Lorelei with Sif, Jemma collapses.
Relationships: Jemma Simmons/Grant Ward
Series: at first sight [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1286894
Comments: 5
Kudos: 54





	how could it be over (when it never was)

**Author's Note:**

> As you can see this is part of my "at first sight" series. There's no need to read any of the other fics first as this (and all the rest) are AUs of the same basic premise and this one should give you enough context to understand what's going on.
> 
> Title from Hannah Ellis' "Never in Love."
> 
>  **Warning:** I feel like it needs to be said that while this fic briefly touches on the events of Yes Men, this version of Grant doesn't treat those events as a rape either in or outside his cover. In that way he's more canon than I typically write him in regards to those events, but I recognize that attitude might rub some people the wrong way. (Frankly, it rubs _me_ the wrong way. I am not a fan of how canon treats those events.) The good news is that if you'd typically stay away from fics revolving around that episode because you didn't want to delve into the issue of rape, this fic never does.

“It’s gonna be fine.” Skye is smiling in a teasing way while Jemma takes this hour’s blood draw.

“Of course it is. You’re recovering remarkably well.” _Too_ well. If Jemma weren’t here to see it herself she would say her report sounds less like science than sci-fi.

“I meant the others. On the mission?”

“I know that.”

“Uh huh. That’s why you’ve got worry-face on.”

“I do not have ‘worry-face.’” Honestly.

“You totally do. And I’m very touched that my recent brush with death has you so worried about everyone’s mortality but that’s why this is the perfect mission to get us back in the field-”

“You’re not leaving this pod.”

“Ugh!” Skye flops her legs against the mattress, but wisely keeps her arm steady as Jemma is removing the needle. “But seriously, they’ve got a literal goddess with them. They’re gonna be fine.”

 _An alien goddess_ , Jemma doesn’t say. Not that she has anything against Sif herself, it’s just that her personal experiences have somewhat soured her against alien contact. Who’s to say whether Sif is carrying a common strain of Asgardian flu?

Thinking of that…

“I should get back to the lab.” She’ll be doing a full decontamination just as soon as Sif has gone, but for the moment she can take a sanitary wipe to the most obvious surfaces.

Skye mutters something about more tests and Jemma doesn’t allow herself to be drawn into an argument. She’s explained to Skye—multiple times—why these blood draws are necessary and won’t be lured into another argument about it.

“Any news?” she asks as soon as she enters the lab.

“Nah.” Fitz’s desk chair swings gently back and forth. After the excitement of an Asgardian on board, they haven’t been left with much to occupy them while they wait for news of the capture. “Wasn’t Skye monitoring things?”

“Skye was attempting to appear at her best behavior in hopes I’d release her.”

Fitz chuckles. “That sounds more like her. When are you planning to do that anyway?”

“When I’m sure she’s-”

“‘-she’s not going to suffer any negative side effects.’ I know. But it’s been weeks- Jemma?”

Jemma can hear Fitz of course. They are in the same room. But as he goes on his voice seems to come from further and further away, like he’s traveling at some great speed away from her. It doesn’t help that her blood is rushing in her ears and her limbs have turned to jelly. She can feel herself shaking—her skin is so _cold_ suddenly—and has strength enough left to let the lab bench behind her take most of her weight, allowing her to drop slowly to the ground.

“Jemma!”

The last thing she’s aware of is Fitz’s hands on her forehead and neck, checking her pulse and temperature. Even so, she has the oddest sense that she’s never been more alone.

.....

The whole team’s giving Grant space. No surprise there. He was the enemy for a while there, nearly killed one of them even.

He curses himself for that as much as for letting Lorelei get close enough to lay hands on him. He should’ve known the magazine was gone from the weight of the thing. He got sloppy and it’s itching at him, leaving him desperate to fix something— _anything_.

Fitz is pretty understanding, seeing as he went through the same thing. Mostly the same thing.

Coulson didn’t get hit with Lorelei’s spell, but he’s understanding about it. Even told Grant they could extend their leave and blame it on Skye if he wants.

Skye’s a non-factor, as she spent the whole time in the med-pod, safe as houses.

May’s pissed. No surprise there. For the millionth time Grant wishes the soulmate thing wasn’t a factor. If his cover weren’t so devoted to the person fate has benevolently decided he belongs with, he could play the hero-worshiping junior agent and let her seduce him. But as his cover _is_ so devoted, he’ll have to let her save his ass a few times.

Which just leaves Simmons. The aforementioned soulmate he has zero interest in. Not that she knows, of course, but that crush she’s harboring for him should make getting things right with her a whole lot easier.

She’s squirrelly. Avoiding his eyes and getting through her work patching him up without any of the lingering touches that she usually indulges in whenever she gets the chance.

It’s kinda sweet, to be honest. She thinks he’s feeling violated and doesn’t want to make it worse.

He doesn’t. Feel violated, that is. Lorelei used him to try her hand at global domination and for some decent sex after centuries spent locked up. He can’t blame her for that. Besides, he’s fucked plenty of women for a cover before and he’s honestly kind of grateful to the bitch for making him want it enough it didn’t feel like a chore.

It’s not like she was the only one either. He used her same as she did him—eight months he’s been on this assignment and all he’s gotten is a whole lot of frustration and lonely nights—and to take his shot at May. If it’d worked, he would’ve been off the team, free and clear now John’s got his cure.

Too bad neither of them got what they wanted from the deal. But at least the sex was good.

“You’re done,” Simmons says, ripping off her gloves. “You should take it easy on your back but you’ll be fine.”

“What about you?” He slips off the table and lifts a hand, boxing her in before she can head for her desk. “Fitz told me you fainted while I was gone. You doing okay?”

She steps back, out of his reach. “I’m fine.”

He smiles, hoping to get the same out of her. “I’m glad. And a little touched. I know it was mostly all the running around you’ve been doing for Skye, but I gotta think I was a little part of you pushing yourself too hard. So thank you. For worrying.”

There’s more to that speech. A reminder he can handle himself and a directive to take care of herself first. But the look on her face stops him cold. It’s … He doesn’t know what it is. He’s never seen an expression like that on Simmons before.

She turns her back on him with a sound of disgust and he finally knows what that expression is. Knowing, as it turns out, doesn’t make it any better.

She practically punches the control panel at the cargo hold entrance and the doors all shut. The lights dim. Security system’s out too.

“Simmons. What are you-”

“I didn’t faint from worry or overwork.” She sounds … mean. Mean and angry and not at all like the adoring little soulmate he’s gotten used to.

Normally he’d try to loosen her up with a smile and a clever pun. Maybe touch her shoulder to get her to drop out of that defensive posture. But somehow he knows that’s the wrong play here.

“Sif told us-” She bites her lip, unable to go on for a moment. “When May asked what effect Lorelei’s powers would have on bonded soulmates, Sif said it was dangerous. That it could sever the bond irreparably. That’s why Coulson stayed back when you arrived at the bar. He knew he’d be needed for crowd control but he understood the risk to his soulmate was too great.”

There’s a cold awareness slipping up Grant’s spine, the one he always gets when an op’s about to go FUBAR.

But Simmons doesn’t say more. She just stands there, silently accusing.

Grant has plans for if she ever found out. Most involving self-recriminations about him being unworthy of a soulmate and fear for her well-being if any of his enemies ever found out about her. That’s not really gonna fly today though.

But she hasn’t seen his mark. She has no definitive proof. Leaving him with plain old denial.

“Wait, back up. Not all of us are geniuses, you know. I’m not getting how the soulmates thing relates to you fainting.” He pauses, considers. “Wait. Was one of those guys at the bar…?”

She’s not buying it. All he’s done is paint himself even worse than the last twenty-four hours did.

Smooth, Grant.

“Wow,” she says softly. “I thought you were so much better than this. But I suppose that’s the beauty of a broken soulbond, I can finally see you for what you are.”

“Me? You think it’s me?” Not his most brilliant move but he doesn’t have a whole lot of other options at the moment. “Simmons. If I were your soulmate, I would’ve-”

“So show me your mark. Take off the veil and let me see it.”

“No," he says immediately, because that’s what his cover would do. “I’ve told you, I’m not willing to risk-”

“So let me see part of it! In these lights I won’t be able to make it out well and if I only see half, I’m no threat to your soulmate. Prove to me I’m not her.”

His mind races. Maybe if he could distract her for a minute or two and get his hands on a marker…?

Simmons breathes out through her teeth. “Don’t bother, Ward. And don’t bore me with your excuses or your false platitudes. I am well aware I’m not as exciting or attractive as- Well, I’m not. Not to a man like yourself.” She laughs, just once. “It’s funny. I would have loved a soulmate like you yesterday. But now I know better. Now I don’t even want you as a friend.”

“Simmons-”

She touches the control panel, gently this time. The doors swoosh open. The lights come back up. “Don’t worry. I’ll remain professional. We are on the same team, after all. And I won’t tell the others. I assure you, I don’t want anyone attempting to guilt anyone into being with me.”

That’s good. It’s something, at least. He’ll still have to do damage control here but-

“But I will.” She cuts into his thoughts with that cold statement. All at once she’s right there in front of him, so close they’re breathing the same air. Under other circumstances, he’d be itching to reach for her. “Skye is one of my best friends,” she says, soft enough only he can hear. Soft enough it’s almost intimate. “I know you have feelings for her, so don’t try to deny that as well. But she deserves better than you.”

Before he can find a response for that impressive bit of blackmail, she shoulders past him, jamming one of the fingers on his left hand as it’s reaching for her hip.

“And so do I,” she says. And she’s gone.

The lab feels empty without her.

.....

_Two weeks later…_

Grant wakes up with the kind of headache that says he’s got an ICER to thank. He can tell he’s in a SHIELD medical facility. The sheets all have the same itch and smell to them, no matter which base he winds up in, and he can feel the pinch of the heart monitor on his first finger.

“Ward!” Something hard hits the floor. The front two legs of a chair, if Grant’s any guess.

“What happened?”

Skye stands over him, all wide eyes and fear. She’s dirty. And wearing the same clothes she was when-

The uprising. The Hub. _John_.

The last thing he remembers, he was reporting to Simmons for a mandatory physical before Coulson would clear him to accompany Hand to the Fridge.

Skye is gripping his hand in both of hers and he grips back, twice as hard.

“ _What happened?_ ” he demands, not caring how much fear he sees in her eyes. Fine with him, so long as he’s not alone with his.

“Everyone’s okay. SHIELD’s still got control of the Hub.”

He barely manages to stop himself rolling his eyes. He’d be better off if Hydra was running things.

“And you’re okay too. Simmons just-” She winces.

“Shot me in the back?”

She asked him to close the door, give them a little privacy for the check-up. He stupidly thought it was a good sign; she hasn’t been alone with him since the day he failed to kill May.

He should’ve known better than to give her his back.

Skye deflates. “She was worried about you. She didn’t want you leaving with everything going on. And she thought you might do something stupid what with Garrett being your SO.”

That is an excellent point and one he should’ve thought of sooner.

He’s discovered, over the last two weeks, that he’s got a blind spot where she’s concerned. He chalks it up to her reversal of opinion on him. He knew how to read embarrassed, crushing Simmons. He has no idea what to do with spurned, bitter Simmons.

Right now? When everyone’s loyalties are in question and he’s already proven himself a liar where she’s concerned? He definitely needed to be on her. His current position proves that.

“Where is she?” He’s not hooked up to any machines aside from the heart monitor and he’s still in his jeans and shirt, so there’s nothing to stop him climbing out of bed.

“Ward, wait! You can’t just go!”

He finds his boots under the bed and shoves into them. “Sure I can. SHIELD’s done. Which means there are no rules saying I have to obey doctor’s orders.” And he’s sure as hell not obeying the doctor who _shot him in the back_.

Skye catches his arm and uses it to spin around in front of him, blocking his path to the door. “No. That’s not- Coulson needs to talk to you.”

She doesn’t say it like he’s got a new mission waiting. She says it like there’s something only Coulson can tell him.

“What is it? What happened?”

She said everyone was all right, so what-

“Garrett,” he chokes. He’s gone cold. “He’s dead.”

“Yeah.” She touches his arm again. “He tried to escape. I know how you felt about him. Even after-”

“Simmons is on the Bus, isn’t she?”

Skye’s silence is as good an answer as any.

.....

“And here comes the consequences of foolish actions,” Fitz says.

Jemma sighs and spares a glance towards the ramp. Sure enough, Ward is marching up it looking as fearsome as he did after the berserker staff. Trip, who’s just left to do some repairs to the exterior, gives him a wide berth. His blazing eyes remain fixed on her all the way past the vehicles and into the lab.

“Could you give us a minute, Fitz?” he asks, still looking at her. She remains seated on her stool, sorting ration packs.

“Yeah. Sure.” He gathers up a laptop and a few spare parts and hurries for the stairs.

“You shot me,” Ward says before he’s even out of sight.

“You lied to me.”

“So that was _payback_?” He’s looming over her now. She wonders if he plans on harming her.

More so, of course, as he’s already harmed her plenty.

“No.” She’s surprised by her own calm, just as she was surprised by her fury when she confronted him two weeks ago. It’s the bond, she thinks. Having it broken has altered her and she’s still getting used to who she is now. “It was a preventative measure.”

“Preventing what?”

She holds his gaze. He’s no genius, as he said the last time they fought, but he’s not unintelligent either.

Slowly, some of the fire goes out of him. “You figured it out.”

“I’m rather good at that, as you know.” She spins on her stool to get another of the boxes from the back counter, but Ward catches her wrist before she can do more than stand.

Whatever he was planning to say is preempted when he notices the simple silver band around her wrist.

“Yes,” she says, unable to keep the bitterness out of her tone. “Coulson felt I deserved _some_ punishment for shooting you. If I leave the Bus, I’ll be unable to operate any electronics for more than a few seconds.”

“You didn’t tell him.”

“I told you I wouldn’t.”

His hand is still a manacle around her arm. The heel of his hand rests over the edge of her soulmark and his thumb slides under the bracelet, stroking her pulse point.

The bond is broken. Their souls are no longer bridged, their bodies only as in tune as any two unfriendly acquaintances. But she’s still human and he’s as attractive as ever—physically; his personality is atrocious—she can’t be blamed for the warmth that pools low in her gut.

“This is a whole lot worse than that, don’t you think?” he asks.

It is. Infinitely worse.

He’s _Hydra_. In league with the man who had Coulson kidnapped and Skye very nearly murdered. She should have brought her suspicions to Coulson immediately and damned her own pride. What has she to be sorry her soulmate didn’t want her when he’s Hydra? She should be grateful and glad for the chance to be rid of him for good. A firing squad or a public hanging both sound splendid options.

But when she thinks of those and Ward on the wrong end of them she feels … something. Something she doesn’t care to name.

She meets his eyes squarely, refusing to be cowed. “I’m being the bigger person.”

“Really? How’s that?”

“I’m giving you the chance to run. I suggest you take it.”

“Or you’ll tell the others everything. Let them cross me off the same as Garrett.” He tsks. “That’s so impersonal though.”

She yanks her arm from his grasp. “You’re not worth dirtying my hands for.”

He chuckles, low and dark and not at all the way she’s used to. That old laugh—the false one, she realizes now—used to warm her. This one rumbles through her in a way that has her hurrying to put space between them.

“Go, Ward. I’m giving you your life and your freedom. It’s more than you deserve.”

As he’s still standing beside the lab bench, she doesn’t dare take the next box of supplies there to be sorted. She simply waits, her back to him, counting the seconds for when it might be safe to turn around.

That, as it turns out, is a mistake. She should know better than to turn her back on an enemy agent, no matter what he might have been to her. _Especially_ because of what he might have been.

His hand slides around her waist and his chest presses to her back. “Maybe you’re right.” His breath stirs her hair. “But maybe I don’t want my freedom. See, the way this was supposed to play out, I was gonna be all set at the right hand of one of Hydra’s heads. I’d have a job and the only person who ever really cared about me. Now? I’ve got nobody.”

She sees the mark, finally unveiled, on the arm holding her to him at the same moment she feels the barrel of a gun against her back.

He nuzzles her hair and his lips brush the shell of her ear. “Except my soulmate.”

And he pulls the trigger.


End file.
